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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28267674">Walk Faster</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Centricide (Webseries)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>All the characters are referred to with human names, From Ancom’s POV, Gen, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Human AU, Overuse of swears/curse words, Slurs, set in the late 90s</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:06:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,961</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28267674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s just wants to get through the day.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anarcho-Capitalist/Anarcho-Communist (Centricide)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Walk Faster</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was reading A Last Exit To Brooklyn, and really digged the flow so I tried to mimic it. </p><p>I’ve also used he/him pronouns for Ancom in this.<br/> </p><p>All human names go to AllegedlyAlan, please go check them out their works are great, all my love goes to them.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bright skies, dark floors. The city ain’t that fucking pretty, and the only times people stop to go <em> wow, I wanna live in that place! </em>Is when they’re watching those romcom movies.</p><p> </p><p>Enter: Bernie Chomsky. Tan skin and curly hair, he stands out with that way too big green shirt tucked into jeans that reach his ankles. He looks like a mess, but it ain’t that different from all the other folk nearby.</p><p> </p><p>It’s like any normal day. He’s gotta go to school, maybe meet up with his friend and try to talk to him about yesterday.</p><p>So he’s walking, shoulders slumped, backpack on, he’s walking slow, trying not to fall flat on his face like last time.</p><p> </p><p>He hears yelling, a cry, an argument, and maybe a moan as he walks. Bernie is keeping his hands in pockets that don’t even hold stuff like it should. Backpack strap clenched in his left, and he continues to walk. Not his business, he ain't a nosy sonofabitch. </p><p> </p><p>He tells himself to <em> keep walking. Keep walking.  </em></p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>There’s a stop at a corner right between two unknown streets, someones blasting music on their shitty radio above in one of them building apartments that look like if he kicked the wall it’ll all fall down, and he can’t help but think that <em> maybe I should’ve worn something warmer </em>in this 40 degree weather. He tugs at the large shirt, looking left and right as he sees some teens that sure as hell should be in school right now, running the crosswalk, getting in the way of the cars that are just tryin to get to places, man. </p><p> </p><p>And Bernie aint no snitch, so as they pass him he gives them a grin, shakes hands with the fastest one telling em <em> good luck, </em> and he crosses the sidewalk, all the cars pausing, waiting for Bernie to <em> GET YOUR SCRAWNY ASS TO WALK FASTER, </em>and he does with an annoyed glance and a raised middle finger to both sides of the crosswalk. </p><p> </p><p>So he’s there on the street, bright skies and dark floor sandwiching him as he makes his way through some trash and trashy people. The floors were wet even though it aint been raining in the better of 2 weeks, and even then the rain ain't that good to spend time in. Feels like acid with all the smoke and pollution being in the rain, Bernie didn’t really know, he didn't pay attention in Earth science back in freshman year. </p><p> </p><p>Bernie and a friend of his made a joke about <em> God pissing on all of us </em>and he remembers busting a gut when his friend said that. </p><p> </p><p>He’s walking. Ratty shoes only getting rattier, as he passes by people that sorta look familiar, and he passes by the alleyways that everyone says are dangerous, because he’s trying to get to school, and he ain't afraid of some dark alleyway.</p><p> </p><p>He continues to walk down the busy streets, backpack strap still in hand as he syncs his steps to that one Backstreet Boys song, you know the one.</p><p> <em> I want it that way- </em>You gotta know it. </p><p>Really wishing he had his walkman, Bernie tries to hum that song, low under his breath so he aint getting one of those assholes on his case going: <em> You a fucking queer, huh? </em>‘Cause he hates that word, and Bernie don’t wanna be late cause he got into a fight with some fucking asshole on the side of the street. </p><p>Though, people talking about <em> sexuality </em>reminds Bernie of this one guy.</p><p> </p><p>All clean cut and mean, that stick in the dudes ass ain’t getting out, and Bernie can’t stand him. Talks about the gays all the fucking time as if he was someone who just <em> needs </em>to know everything going on with them. </p><p> </p><p><em> “You a queer?” </em>The bonafide sonofabitch, Konrad Muller, asked Bernie once when the two were the only ones in their history class and Konrad had the fucking audacity to grab Bernie’s hand and glare down at the black nailpolish that his friend Marley put on him because she needed practice. </p><p> </p><p><em> “If I say yeah will you leave me alone?” </em> Bernie had spat and it earned him a punch in the face and he laughs it off, kicking Konrad in the chest because the blonde was <em> way </em>too close to Bernie, and if he were a lesser man like Konrad he would’ve called him a queer for their proximity. </p><p> </p><p>But his friend says he’s cool or whatever, Bernie ain't so sure about that. </p><p> </p><p>Bernie is still walking, almost there to his school. He thinks about his friend, Warren, and feels his face warm up and-</p><p> </p><p>He bumps into someone in front of him and he’s about to go <em> What the fuck, man? </em>Because the dude is just standing in the middle of the street like a goddamn weirdo and he’s gotta go to school. </p><p> </p><p>The boulder in the busy street turns around and looks <em> down </em>at Bernie, eyes glaring down like he’s calling Bernie a fucking ant. </p><p> </p><p>And Bernie ain’t really paying attention because he’s looking at what the tall fella is wearing. He is fit for winter with that one communist hat that he’s seen before in history class on his head, and Bernie didn’t realize that he was being talked to until the dude cleared his throat. </p><p> </p><p>“Er, what did ya say?” Bernie asks and the dude looks sorta distressed but remains that slight <em> I won't kill you don’t worry look.  </em></p><p> </p><p>“Can you help me with directions-” Voice deep and low, and <em> is that an accent I hear? </em>Bernie wonders what the fuck a guy like him is doing standing here.  “I’m trying to get to school,” and he shows a school ID that looks similar to Bernies and Bernie goes:</p><p> </p><p>“Ohh, you’re a new student, huh?” Bernie scratches his cheek. “Well shit, my name’s Bernie, I go there too.” </p><p> </p><p>The dude sighs in relief. “Ilya.”  </p><p> </p><p>So this guy, <em> Ilya, </em> is walking next to him and the two ain’t talking shit to each other, so Bernie pulls out the <em> Where ya from, How ya doing, what year you’s in, </em>all them niceties. </p><p> </p><p>Ilya ain’t the greatest conversationalist so he responds in short bursts, like he’s trying to hide himself and Bernie can’t blame the dude. Bernie really wants to ask <em> why the fuck is your parents letting you walk to school alone on your first day </em>but Bernie’s momma is dead and he don’t wanna talk about his papa, so he understands. </p><p> </p><p>They reach the school, earlier than most because Bernie likes to screw over his friend’s locker for fun, and he can talk to the nice spanish teacher that gives him candy. </p><p> </p><p>He almost forgets about Ilya until the dude says <em> Thank you </em> all politely, and leaves Bernie at the front door and Bernie tries not to stare as the dude leaves. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Going to his locker and putting his backpack in the tiny compartment, he reaches out for his history notebook, a shitty pen, and his beloved walkman his friend gave him. </p><p> </p><p>He walks again, slumping his shoulders, seeing his friend Marley and talking with her about Mr. Cliff’s science test, and <em> Hey, Bernie, you’re good at science, right? </em> Followed up with <em> have you heard about Kelly and Jose, </em> ending with a <em> You still seeing Warren? </em>and that ends up with Bernie frowning, telling Marley to fuck off while she cackles and laughs, and he wonders why the two are still friends. </p><p>She stalks off, heels clicking, and she’s a confident lady with them heels on and Bernie wonders what it’s like to wear heels that, to him, look so cool. </p><p> </p><p>Walking through the empty halls, the rough slide of his ratty shoes is loud, but he ain’t listening ‘cause Bernie is listening to that one Backstreet Boy’s song, you know the one. </p><p> </p><p>But he ain’t listening and he feels a hand on his shoulder and <em> what the fuck what the fuck </em> and he kicks thepersons shin because <em> what the fuck was that?? </em></p><p> </p><p>Bernie hears a <em> JESUS CHRIST </em> and a <em> YOU FUCK-OWWW </em>and he looks down to the person falling to the floor and </p><p> </p><p>“Holy shi-Warren, sorry!” Bernie is quick to grab his friends polo, “You okay??” </p><p> </p><p>Warren stands up, wobbling his skinny legs, and he’s all like <em> I’m fine, I’m fine, </em>but he ain’t walking properly and Bernie is worried. </p><p> </p><p>And Warren puts a hand on Bernie’s shoulder and Warren leans in close to Bernie’s ear, smiling that rich boy smile, and says something along the lines of: <em> My family is out for the weekend, you can stay over if you want </em>and Bernie nods his head and smiles. </p><p> </p><p>And they start talking, and it’s all <em> We got a new student, </em> switching to <em> My mom got me this new game, </em> ending with- <em> You just gotta stay over, Bernie-it’ll be so much fun. </em>And Bernie just nods, praying to whatever deity that his papa will let him. </p><p> </p><p>And <em> hey hey hey, you wanna talk about what happened yesterday when we stayed behind the school to smoke until what little sunlight we got faded away, and you reached for my hoodie that I couldn’t wear today because it smelled too much like weed and you, and you kissed my cheek and my heart-oh my heart- </em></p><p> </p><p>But Warren is already leaving for his Homeroom and Bernie wants to go and grab his hand to ask him <em> what was yesterday? </em>But he leaves to go meet the nice Spanish teacher and maybe chew on a lollipop trying to forget about yesterday ‘cause it hurts his head thinking about it. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>He goes to his homeroom/history class right after the pleasant conversation with the nice Spanish teacher, and the class is full and loud, the teacher aint here yet, and Bernie sits down in the middle row, closest to the window,  takes his pen, doodles on his arm a little bit until he hears the hard steps of his homeroom teacher, who’s saying <em> good morning, good morning </em>and no one is really paying attention and the teacher don’t really care. </p><p> </p><p>Bernie is looking around, a girl sits at the desk in front of him, everyone is talking and chatting, everything jumbling together in Bernie’s head. He looks up to the door and-</p><p> </p><p>Let’s set a scene, yeah?</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Enter: the prowling weasel, Konrad Muller stands all low yet confident. Acting as if he’s better than everyone because he’s got semi-decent genes and a nice jawline. Now Bernie looks <em> real </em>messy compared to the tight collared shirt and nice jeans that fit the Sonofabitch, and Konrad knows it. </p><p> </p><p>And the dude is glaring with sharp eyes at Bernie, and he ignores it because Konrad don’t deserve shit from him. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Cut to: Konrad being a piece of shit and walking up to Bernie, pushing on others desks and he’s about to sit down at the desk empty next to Bernie and <em> you better fucking not </em> but the blonde sits down, a shit-eating grin on his face and he straightens his posture, not looking at Bernie. </p><p> </p><p>And class starts, Bernie is already fucking pissed and he just wants to hurry up and leave.</p><p> </p><p>Teacher starts taking attendance, and Bernie is too busy ignoring the frequent glares from Konrad to pay attention, so he keeps drawing on his arms with his shitty pen until he hears his name <em> Mr. Bernie Chomsky? </em> And he raises his hand, saying <em> I’m Here </em> but his mind focuses on the girl sitting right in front of him, her skirt loose and long and <em> damn she’s real stylish </em> which quickly turns into <em> I want that skirt, </em>and Bernie goes back to doodling on his arm, pressing the pen a bit deeper. </p><p> </p><p><em> It’s a normal day </em>,and Bernie hates it.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And that’s that! I’m not the hugest fan of this one, but I’m experimenting so I’ll cut me some slack.</p><p>Kudos and comments are appreciated! I love you all &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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